


The Morning Hunt

by meiratyn



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gay teenage son, Hunting, Soviet dad, Victors dad wants to talk after catching him with a dude basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 17:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9247121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiratyn/pseuds/meiratyn
Summary: After catching Victor sneaking a boy out of his room (again), his father decides to take him out one morning for a hunt.A hunt, and a chat.





	

When his father woke him up before sunrise that morning, telling him to get dressed and get his rifle, Victor knew they weren’t  _ just _ going hunting to bring back a deer. 

But he didn’t argue with the old man; he did as he was told, for once. 

Sunrise found them at their usual hunting grounds, maintained by a very wealthy businessman who had once served under his father’s command. Victor had pointed out a thick, tall tree at the end of a clearing through which a small stream ran, and wasted no time in pulling himself up through the branches. 

A little rope, some pulling, and his father found a sturdy branch close to him. 

And so they waited, both for deer to come, and for Victor, for his father to start talking. 

They planned these hunting trips days in advance. Never once had one been sprung on him like this. 

And, well..

His father had caught him the previous morning sneaking a boy out of his bedroom for the second time in a month. 

“Dima says they’ll come soon.”

Victor said nothing.

His father said that every time they came out here, but they both knew from experience that the deer were finicky; sometimes they came out to the stream for a drink, and sometimes they didn’t, likely because they either heard them coming or were sidetracked by any of the other game kept in this territory.

In his older years, his father put less emphasis on the actual hunting part of hunting, which frustrated Victor. 

A lot of what his father did frustrated Victor. 

“While we’re up here, Vitya, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

Victor said nothing.

He knew what was coming.

If he spoke up, he knew his father would get mad and they would go home angry.

So he said nothing. 

“Vitya, Victor, this is a time in your life where we expect certain things from you.”

Victor resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and continued to say nothing, resting his rifle on his leg, watching the creek.

Reminding himself to  _ breathe _ .

“We expect you to act.. a certain way, Vitya. You're a man now.”

_ I'm a man but you still call me that _ .  _ I'm a man when it suits you. _

He bit his lip, thumb twitching. 

“I know you try to mimic your sist-”

“She has nothing to do with it,” Victor snapped, feeling his stoic wall shatter. “Stop punishing  _ her _ because of what  _ I _ do.”

His father didn't respond for a moment, just sighing and wiping a smudge off the chamber of his gun.

“Vitya, whatever it is, this needs to stop. I cannot allow you to continue to carry yourself like a…” His voice trailed off, but Victor knew what he was going to say.

Like a sodomite. 

Well, he was, and he didn't give a damn what his father thought. 

Except that wasn't true; he was only a teenager, and he still cared very much about whether or not his parents were proud of him. 

He wished he could be more like his sister, in that she didn't. 

“Like a vagrant, Vitya. You need to understand what I expect of you. What I expect of the choices you make.”

Victor was silent, knowing his father was at the precipice of anger now.

He'd let the old man talk himself hoarse. It didn't make a difference in the end.

“You haven't been making those choices, Vitya.”

Victor was sure, in the distance, he saw movement in the bushes.

He remained still and silent.

“And with these men you continue to sneak-”

“Shhh.”

Antlers.

He definitely, definitely saw antlers.

“Vitya, we need to-”

“Shhh.”

An axis deer.

It's antlers stretched as wide as it was tall, the stag itself a fine, large male.

Victor watched it with baited breath, shouldering his rifle, finger resting above the trigger. 

“Vitya, don't.”

His father's voice was low now, dropped almost to a whisper.

“It's too far. You'll miss and scare it off.”

Victor wanted to scream.

He wanted the old man to  _ shut up _ and  _ stop _ telling him what to do.

He was  _ not _ a  _ child _ .

Gritting his teeth, he took careful aim, pressing the trigger twice as the stag lowered its head to drink.

The gunshots rang out through the clearing, accompanied by the flapping of bird wings as they fled their trees.

But beside the stream, the stag lay dead.

\----

“Great kill, comrade. The stag yours?”

“No, my son's.” The old man clapped him on the back, but Victor said nothing, only smiling at his father's friend, as he had been raised to do. 

“Eh? Good shot, kid. You must be proud, comrade. My sons don't take to huntin so well.”

“I am proud.” His father clapped his back again, harder this time.

Victor said nothing, but he couldn't help but wonder if that was true.

If his father was proud of him.

He had never heard him say those words before, and it was strange to hear.

Alien.

He didn't know what to make of it, not after that talk his father had started giving him.

But the old man caught his eye and shot him a rare smile that warmed Victor from the inside out. 

As they traveled home, as the day continued, his father didn't bring their conversation up again.


End file.
